


Shifts in Equilibrium

by Kayim



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-13
Updated: 2010-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:58:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where vampires and werewolves are sworn enemies, a chance encounter between the blood-sucking Vin Tanner and the shape-shifting Ezra Standish leads to a new alliance. What will happen to the centuries old enmity when the alliance leads to an unbreakable friendship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifts in Equilibrium

Vin stood close enough to the crowd to look like he belonged, but just far enough that no one bothered him. With his all-black clothing and dark sunglasses even at night, he fitted in amongst the group, albeit with a few admiring glances from both men and women. The race was about to start and he slid the glasses up onto his head, using them to keep his hair away from his face.

He was a loner by nature, but with one real exception - when he came downtown to watch the street races. He loved to find a good vantage point and watch from a distance as the cars raced past each other, trailing intricate patterns of lights on the ground.

He could smell the diesel that spilled onto the road, leaving rainbow patterns; he could hear the curses and insults that were thrown from one competitor to another, light hearted enough that no weapons would be drawn, but just serious enough to feel like a threat; he could see the wads of cash that were passing from hand to hand as the next race was prepared.

Vin turned and retreated to his previously selected viewing platform – a rooftop overlooking the main street. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he leapt, his long black coat trailing behind him like wings. He made it almost halfway up the building in that first jump, landing with inhuman dexterity on a slim window ledge. He looked down briefly and continued up the side of the building, leaping from ledge to ledge until he was on the roof, then perching himself silently on the edge like a gargoyle watching over the events below him.

A pretty peroxide blonde, dressed in the customary denim hot pants and bikini top, stood in front of two cars with a flag in her hands. She smiled at the crowds gathering around, posing for her big moment, hips thrust out, deep breaths accentuating her barely-covered cleavage. The two cars at the start line revved their engines and began their wheel spins, sending plumes of smoke and road dust into the air. Vin could taste the asphalt as he breathed in, harsh and bitter on the back of his throat.

With a final wave to the drivers, the blonde lifted her arms and brought the flag down to signify the start of the race. She spun around as the cars - one blue, one yellow, both accessorized beyond all reasonable necessity - sped past her, watching as they vanished onto the horizon. Vin followed them, his eyes never once losing them, despite the speeds they were being pushed to.

"Blue," he whispered to himself as the blue car began to pull ahead of its opponent. With a burst of nitrous oxide from its exhaust, the yellow car, unwilling to accept possible defeat, took the lead again. The extra power had given it a boost, but the blue car was gaining quickly, even without the use of nitrous.

"Definitely blue," Vin repeated. There was something about the driver of the blue car that appealed to him - a determination, maybe, or just stubbornness. No matter what the yellow car did, it was blue that would be successful. Vin knew it.

As they approached the makeshift finish line, it was almost impossible to be sure who would win. Each time one car pulled ahead, the other would find an extra push and pull alongside. They changed places in perfect unison, as though dancing through the streets, until the finish line was mere seconds away.

In that final moment, as though purposely having saved an extra something until the end, the blue car pulled forward, crossing the line marker inches ahead of its opponent.

Needing to be near the action once more, Vin jumped down from the roof, landing cat-like on the ground in a crouch.

He smiled to himself as he walked towards the crowds gathering around the finish line. The driver of the yellow car climbed out first, shaking his head and cursing under his breath. No doubt he had lost a lot of money on this race, but Vin could hear the underlying awe in his voice. He may have been beaten, but he was still impressed.

The door of the blue car opened and Vin locked his gaze, eager to see the driver who had made such an impression. As the man climbed out to the sounds of cheers and whistles, Vin hissed in pain.

The smell was almost overwhelming and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before, an acrid smell that he knew only too well - one that he had never expected to see here in the open like this. As he watched the crowd swarm the driver of the car, he was horrified to realize that none of them had any idea who was the subject of their adoration.

Not one of them sensed that the man standing in front of them wasn't a man at all. Despite the deceptively warm smile and flashing green eyes, Vin knew immediately what it was.

A werewolf.

*

Ezra knew he would win from the start. His opponent, a drug-addled street thug with more money than sense, could barely see in a straight line, let alone race a car along the winding streets of the city, but he had seemed determined to try. It wasn't pride or the promise of cash that forced Ezra's hand into accepting the challenge, but simply the opportunity to drive fast.

He could do that by himself, without risking the lives of innocent passers-by, but there was no thrill in it and the rush of adrenaline was what he needed. Through the tinted windows of the car, he could still make out the clear outline of the full moon that hung in the sky above him. _You can't avoid me_, it seemed to taunt. _I'm here and you know it._

It was true. Ezra could feel the heat rise in his body as the poison that made him the monster that he was flowed through his veins. This was the worst time of the night for him, for all creatures like him, but unlike the rest of his pack, he chose to deny the change. He fought against it with every breath he took, his fists clenching tightly as the claws buried deep beneath his skin threatened to break free. The rush of the street race had helped, distracting him for long enough to regain his control, but now, as the adrenaline high eased, he felt vulnerable again.

With no choice, he opened the door of the car and slid out, the perfect mask of a smile in place as he accepted the congratulations of the spectators. His senses were filled with the overwhelming smells and sounds that accompanied the crowds. He struggled to calm himself, but the press of bodies was quickly becoming unbearable. He turned to escape back into the sanctuary of his car, but was stopped by the unmistakable knowledge that he was being watched.

He glanced around. _Where are you? I know you're here._

His senses were keen, even in his human form, but he couldn't quite identify the origin of the tell-tale scent. He felt his blood boil as he scanned the crowd, searching for the bloodsucker that was far closer than he was willing to allow. _How could I have been so careless?_ he wondered. _Why didn't I notice you sooner?_

Thrown off-guard by this unexpected presence, he pushed past the mass of bodies surrounding him until he was safe inside his car. With his foot heavily on the gas, he sped away, confused, angry and, if he was willing to admit it, a little terrified.

The enmity between his kind and the vampires was legendary; both believed in their own superiority, and both swore to destroy the other. He had managed to avoid contact with vampires in the past, simply through his own preference for solitude, but he should have known that the distance couldn't have been kept forever.

The one speck of gratitude he had was that this millennia-long hatred had evolved into a sixth sense, allowing werewolves and vampires to identify each other from a distance. Without that ability, he realized with an involuntary shudder, he would probably already be dead.

*

By the time he pulled his car into the car park beneath his apartment block, the pain from holding back the shift had finally subsided. With the sharp moonlight now hidden behind concrete walls, he could allow himself to relax and let out a sigh of relief. Whenever the moon was high, the urge to shift was strong, although he was usually able to withstand it. But situations like this – coming almost face-to-face with a vampire – pushed him to the limit. He had felt the tell-tale signs of a shift happening even as he drove.

He reached in his pocket for the door key, sensing movement inside the apartment. He growled softly to himself and tilted his head, listening for anything that would indicate who had invaded his privacy, but heard nothing inside. He slipped the key in the lock and turned it, swinging the door open with barely a sound.

"Good evening Ezra."

"Mother."

She sighed. "I do wish you wouldn't say that word with such disgust in your voice. It makes me feel positively disliked."

Ezra pointedly ignored the woman who liked to call herself his mother, and walked into the kitchen. Maude remained in the living room, sitting comfortably on his sofa as though she had every right to be there. He made no secret of his hatred of her and had certainly never asked her to come and visit him, so he was fairly sure that whatever had dragged her here was something that would benefit no one but her.

His stomach rumbled and he recalled that he hadn't eaten in a few hours. He sniffed deeply, momentarily distracted from the appearance of the woman in his living room, and swung open the door of the fridge, pulling out a large t-bone steak. With a dexterity that no human could hope to achieve, he flipped it up into the air with one hand and spun around to pick up a frying pan with the other. He caught the steak in the exact centre of the pan, and switched on the burner. A nice rare steak would go down well, he decided.

"Are you going to ignore me all evening, son?"

Ezra contemplated for a moment the possibility of doing just that.

"I know what you're thinking, remember?" She sounded bemused rather than irritated. "Now please bring me some of that delicious smelling meat you have in there. And no need to cook it first, my dear boy."

With his steak prepared as bloodily as he had always enjoyed it - even before his first shift - he slipped a second one, still raw, onto another plate and carried both of them into the other room.

"I really am *not* your dear anything," he reminded Maude as he handed her the plate. "And may I ask what you're doing here?"

Licking her lips at the sight of the bloody steak, Maude seemed distracted for a moment. "Can I not come and visit a beloved member of my pack?" she asked, feigning a look of hurt. "It has been an excessively long time since you came to visit us."

"There's a reason for that," Ezra replied. He hated visiting the pack, hiding out in an old abandoned school building. It was cold, damp and smelled bad, but the rest the pack seemed thrilled with it. But even the discomforts of the location were pleasurable compared to the real reason he never visited. When he looked around and saw the creatures in their half-wolf form, tearing at shreds of meat that could once have been anything, or anyone, he didn't see them; he saw himself.

He saw the creature that he had become - that Maude had made him - and it scared him.

He couldn't bear the thought of simply giving in, of becoming like one of them. So he fought against it. Every day it was a struggle that he feared would destroy him, and every day he lost a small part of his soul.

"Are you not going to ask why I'm here?" Maude broke Ezra from his thoughts. "I thought I raised you better than that."

"You didn't raise me at all," Ezra told her, taking a bite of his steak. "But go ahead, if you must, enlighten me."

"It's quite simple," she started, ignoring his first comment, and Ezra knew that whatever she was about to say would be anything but simple. "I have some information that I thought you might like."

"Ahh, of course," replied Ezra. "And you need me to do something highly illegal and very dramatic in order to get this information."

She gave a fake laugh, a giggle that Ezra supposed she believed was as adorable on her as it would be on a teenage girl from California. "Of course not," she assured him. "I have nothing but your best interests at heart."

Ezra considered mentioning that if Maude even had a heart anymore it was probably made of stone, but he chose to save that particular barb for another day. "Okay, I'll bite. Please reveal your wondrous secret to me."

She gave another little laugh, and smiled, baring her teeth at him.

"Oh, you're such a darling puppy. You actually think you're playing me, don't you?"

Ezra snarled and jumped up, the plate in his hand clattering to the floor.

"Get the hell out of my home," he growled at her, his features becoming more animalistic as he spoke. The thin thread of control that he was hanging on to was unraveling quickly. His face, once graceful and smooth, became sharp and rugged as his teeth grew. His shoulders became broader, his chest filling out. He heard the tear of material as his shirt was suddenly a size too small, and subconsciously realized that the ruination of another good outfit was another thing to blame that woman for.

Maude remained where she was, unmoving.

"There's a professor at the college," she said, unaffected by the alpha-male display of strength that Ezra was performing in front of her. "I just thought you might be interested in meeting him. Especially since you seem to share his interest in transforming werewolves into humans."

Ezra was stunned by the revelation and sat himself back down.

"I thought that might get your attention," she went on, lifting up her plate and taking a moment to appreciate the scent of the raw steak. "Now, if you'd like to calm yourself down and listen to me, I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement."

*

Vin found himself wishing that the tales of vampires being able to transform into bats and fly were true. Instead, he was walking through the dark streets of the city, sticking to alleys and back streets, hoping to locate the scent of the werewolf he had seen earlier.

It wasn't the first time he had encountered one, but something about this particular creature intrigued him. Werewolves were pack animals, similar to most vampires in that they preferred the company of others rather than any kind of solitude. Vin was an exception, even within his own coven of outsiders. And so, it seemed, was this werewolf.

Driving in street races, interacting with humans as though one of them. It seemed impossible to him, denying who or what you were. He looked around the streets as he walked, taking in the details of the city that he had never considered before. The trash left in corners, bags torn open with their contents spilled across the floor. Windows smashed and boarded up with pieces of thin wood torn from a packing crate. Rats scavenging for food.

This was the world he belonged in. He had given up the right to an easy life when he accepted what he had become. Over a hundred years of death had changed him, permanently. He was a monster, he knew that.

"Spare a few coins, sir?" He looked down and saw a man crouched on the floor atop a flattened cardboard box. With his hair matted and covered in dirt, it was clear that he had no home other than this alley. Vin looked at him, the hunger growing to unbearable levels. It had been so long since he last fed, last felt the warmth of human blood running through his veins.

He stepped back, trying to distance himself from the man, but he was being pulled closer. The unwashed stench of the man did little to disguise the overwhelming aroma that filled the air. He fought, for a few more moments, his still human emotions conflicting with his vampire desires, until the stronger of the two won the battle.

He didn't speak as he moved at lightning-fast speed and grabbed the man by his flea-ridden coat. Before the man could plead for his life, as so many had done in the past, Vin sunk his teeth into his neck, feeding hungrily on the blood that flowed into his mouth and didn't stop until he felt the man go limp in his arms. It was only then that the human part of his mind was able to gain control - just in time for the comforting feeling of quenched hunger to be replaced with sickening guilt.

*

By the time Maude left his apartment, the only thing that Ezra was still sure of was that he needed a drink. A very large, very stiff drink.

Despite the progressive nature of the city, he avoided drinking in human bars. Alcohol was a relaxant, and often resulted in him unintentionally releasing control of his shift. Transforming into a huge snarling creature was probably not what the patrons of the local wine bars expected to see. There was really only one place he felt comfortable enough to be himself.

Inez's.

Located down a dark alley in one of the most dangerous areas of the city, it catered to those of a more... unusual persuasion. While Inez herself was apparently fully human, those who frequented the bar were usually anything but. Every creature was welcome and could purchase food and drinks of their choice, with only one rule.

No fighting.

Two huge Golems were there to enforce that particular rule; seven foot tall beings created from stone and animated through ancient magic. Magic altered their appearance according to the wishes of Inez, allowing them to take on the appearance of two willing volunteers - human males, one blond, one dark haired. They worked behind the bar most of the time, serving drinks as required, but their primary role was as a deterrent to bad behavior.

Ezra never truly enjoyed the atmosphere at the bar as it reminded him too painfully of the abhorrent creature he had become, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

As he walked in, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the lighting levels that were kept low in acknowledgment of some of the more sensitive clients. It was barely 3am, but the bar was still busy. He nodded to a pair of werewolves from another pack who were sitting at a table in the corner, and kept his head down as he headed towards the bar. He heard whispers as he passed a table full of ghouls; undead creatures who were renowned for being gossip-mongers, although they considered themselves information brokers. He disliked them, having been the subject of their rumors on more than one occasion, but knew that they could have nothing new on him, and he might need their services at a later date. Especially if what Maude had told him was true. Which he seriously doubted.

"Ezra!" Inez smiled when she saw him. "It's been too long since you've visited."

Inez was a beautiful woman, tall and slim with dark hair that fell around her face. She had inherited the bar from her father, although she never spoke about either him or her life before she took over. Old timers - those who had been visiting the bar for a lot longer than Ezra - would tell occasional stories about the man, most of which were filled with exaggerations and lies.

"I know, I know," he apologized, sitting himself on a stool. "But you know how things are."

"Only too well," she agreed, a look of sadness in her eyes as she slid a small bowl across the bar to him. Peanuts. He almost laughed at the utter normality of the action when he was sitting surrounded by creatures that most humans didn't even believe existed.

"What can I get you to drink?" She could provide anything that was requested, somehow. Ezra once questioned how this worked. She had simply smiled at him and replied that it was Magic. He almost believed her.

"Scotch," he replied, making the instant decision that tonight was a night for heavy drinking and no regrets. He'd worry about what Maude had told him in the morning. "Double. On the rocks."

Inez nodded towards the blond bartender/security guard. "Chris, would you mind doing the honors?"

Without a response, Chris turned and prepared the drink, automatically reaching for the better whiskey that stood high on one of the shelves, while Inez turned her attention back to Ezra.

"Bad day?"

"You could say that. You've met my mother, right?"

Inez rolled her eyes. "Oh, I know that bitch only too well." Maude was one of the few creatures who was actually barred from Inez's. Having conned and/or outright stolen from too many of the patrons, she was bad for business, and Inez had no interest in allowing her to frequent the place anymore.

"She came to visit."

"Ouch."

Chris brought over the drink, placing it on the bar in front of them and retreating away.

"Doesn't speak much, does he?" Ezra asked, watching the man.

"I asked for him that way," Inez replied. "Trust me, the other one more than makes up for it."

She looked towards the other Golem, the dark-haired one she referred to as Buck. Perching on the edge of a small table that was beginning to buckle under his weight, he seemed more interested in the faerie sitting there than in anything else happening in the bar.

"That's not going to end well," Ezra muttered, watching as Buck attempted to lean in closer to the winged creature. She may have looked like a delicate, petite cheerleader, but Ezra had been on the receiving end of a disgruntled faerie curse once, and it wasn't something he would wish on even his worst enemy.

"I swear they must have removed even the small amount of common sense in that one when I ordered him," Inez said, shaking her head. "Buck! Get your stone-covered ass over here, before she claws out your eyes and I have to get them replaced. Again."

The Golem shrugged his immense shoulders and headed back to the bar.

"One of these days, I'm going to have to get him re-animated again. Do you have any idea how much something like that costs?"

Before Ezra could respond, Inez's attention was drawn towards the creaking door of the bar.

*

The smell hit Vin as soon as he walked through the door. The overwhelming scent was emanating from the werewolves nearest the entrance. He heard them growling, but knew that he had nothing to fear from them. No werewolf, no matter how stupid, would try anything here at Inez's.

He glanced around, looking for the reason he had come here, and found him sitting at the bar.

With a grimace as the scent of the animal grew stronger, he walked over and sat down on the stool next to him.

The werewolf stared straight ahead, looking in the mirror that hung behind the bar. Vin was amused by that, knowing that a fair few of the patrons, himself included, wouldn't have been able to see themselves. He could, however, see the reflection of the creature next to him perfectly well.

He smiled at Inez, flashing his fangs as he spoke. "Could I get a drink please?" he asked her. "O Neg, if you have it."

Inez nodded. "Not a problem. Warm or cold?"

"Warm please."

With a brief look at Buck, who was now staring intently at the newcomer, she mouthed the drink order to him and waited for him to start preparing it. "I recognize you," she said to him. "Not seen you in a while though. Vin, isn't it?"

"That's right, ma'am," he said with the respect and politeness that had been instilled in him when he was still alive. "Been travelling around for a while. Just looking to do some catchin' up."

"You remember the rules, right?" she asked.

"No fighting and play nice," he recited. It was the only rule that mattered here. That and, don't piss off the owner.

Acknowledging his response with a smile, Inez backed away from the pair, pretending to rearrange the bottles on the back shelf. Vin knew that she was watching them in the mirror – at least watching one of them – but he was telling the truth about not wanting to cause a problem.

"You were the one watching me." The werewolf spoke finally, stating a fact rather than questioning. "Why?"

Vin shrugged. "You interested me."

The werewolf turned in his seat and looked at the vampire for a moment, as if sizing him up. Both of them stared at each other, neither one speaking until Buck returned with the warmed blood for Vin.

"Thank you," he said to the golem, taking a sip of the drink.

"Why did you do that?" asked the werewolf.

"Do what?"

"Offer gratitude to that creature just now."

Vin was confused. Why wouldn't he have thanked Buck for the drink? Just because werewolves obviously had no sense of politeness didn't mean that he was the same way.

"Please don't misinterpret my query," he added quickly. "I was simply bemused that anyone else would treat the golems with courtesy. You are a most peculiar creature."

"I'm so pleased that you find me funny," Vin snapped. He took a long drink from the glass in front of him, relishing the warmth of the blood as it flowed through him. Despite having drained the poor unfortunate in the alley way less than an hour earlier, the hunger was already beginning to grow stronger again.

But the sarcasm dripping from the werewolf was irritating him enough that even this blood wasn't enough to lose the edge he was feeling.

Coming to the bar had been a bad idea.

The werewolf spoke again. "I apologize," he said. "I certainly did not intend to insult your delicate nature."

Vin wondered to himself if the creature was purposely trying to bait him. Perhaps he had a death wish.

"You are aware that I could snap your neck, werewolf or no werewolf," he stated simply. "No one in this bar, not even the golems, could stop me."

The werewolf stood up, placing his now empty glass back on the bar. "I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," he said. "As much as I enjoy trading barbs with someone as obviously verbose as yourself, I simply do not have the time to continue this conversation. It was, however, a sheer delight to meet you."

He turned around, and Vin considered the possibility of snapping the creature's neck as he had threatened.

"I really wouldn't try it," he added as he walked towards the door. The words were barely more than a whisper, but Vin could hear them without a problem. "But if you ever have the desire to partake in an _actual_ conversation, please let me know. I'm sure you'd be able to find me again."

As the werewolf left the bar, Vin swallowed the last of his drink and followed.

*

Ezra walked with no particular destination in mind as he ran over the events of the last few minutes in his mind. He hadn't actually been intending to irritate the vampire, but there was something that seemed to flash in his mind when the creature was near. Something that wanted to keep the vampire as far away from him as possible. An inbuilt defense mechanism or some such nonsense, he supposed, designed to keep werewolves and vampires from killing each other quite so often.

Now that the feeling was starting to pass, he had to admit that he found it interesting that the creature had chosen to follow him. A little concerning, admittedly, but intriguing. His own experience with vampires was limited to a few choice run-ins before he had chosen to abandon his pack. It seemed to be that when either creature was surrounded by its own, the compulsion to attack was greater. Animal nature, perhaps? Or the remnants of human nature?

There was still so much he didn't understand about what he was, and that frustrated him. He wasn't used to having answers withheld from him, but unless he was willing to crawl before Maude and beg for her help, he wasn't going to get it from another werewolf.

The thought of Maude reminded him of the Professor. He considered doing some research before going to see the man in person, but opted to go with his instincts. He wanted to get a feel for the man for himself before he gave any credit to whatever wild theories he was sure to come up with.

It was nearing dawn and the night air was cool. As he walked, he listened out for any sign that the vampire was still following him but there was nothing save the sounds of children crying and televisions blaring. Either the vampire was better than him, or he had already given up. Either way, Ezra found himself feeling a little disappointed.

*

Vin knew the abilities of werewolves well enough to calculate how far behind the creature he would need to stay to avoid detection. While they may have the senses of a wild animal, he also understood that when they remained in human form for any length of time, that ability was diminished. And this particular creature seemed to be especially reluctant to shift.

He held back a couple of blocks, following from a safe enough distance, and wondered why he had reacted as violently as he had done in the bar.

It wasn't just the presence of the werewolf, he knew that. He had encountered entire packs of werewolves before and successfully retained his calm. And he was fairly sure that there hadn't been any kind of drug slipped into his drink - although if he later found out that there had been, he would be back there in a flash. There was just something about this particular creature that stirred him up.

He recalled the way the werewolf had stared at the mirror, not bothered by Vin's own lack of reflection. He hadn't seemed scared of him at all. Which was something entirely new for Vin.

He had been around for more years than he cared to remember, always existing as a creature of fear. The bravest men had run and hid from him - for the little good it did them - and other creatures had cleared a path for him when he walked. Yet here was a lone werewolf, barely a decade old by his estimation, separate from his pack, able to sit and drink without the slightest ounce of fear to show.

Once more, this strange creature had proven to be more interesting than any that Vin had encountered in a long time.

As he followed the werewolf, he noted the change in the color of the sky. The sun was beginning to rise. He calculated that he had less than ten minutes remaining until the sun would be high enough in the sky to cause him a problem. He had to make a decision now – to continue following and risk his own life, or to seek cover somewhere until the sun set again.

With his eyes firmly set on the horizon, he followed the scent of the werewolf for a few more minutes, feeling his blood begin to warm as the sun threatened to break over the skyline. With just moments before his skin would began to blister and smoke, Vin realized he had left the decision too late.

Panicked, he fled from the sunlight that was flooding across the city, dashing into the nearest covered alleyway. With a kick hard enough to shatter the wooden doorframe, he broke into one of the abandoned buildings, seeking sanctuary from the morning sun.

He cowered in the rat-infested building, keeping himself as far from the windows as he could. The thin boards covering the broken glass were barely enough to keep the sunlight from pouring in, and the whole building was open plan with few areas of protection.

Even before he had been turned, he had been a patient man. Under any normal circumstance, waiting until the sun set wouldn't have been a problem. He would simply have settled down and slept. But his encounter with the werewolf had left him… edgy. His eyes were darting around the building and he realized that he was hungry.

Not just hungry. Starving.

The blood from the homeless man had been tainted with alcohol, and the meager amount served up at the bar had merely whetted his appetite. A rat scurried by his feet and he reached out to snatch it up. Animal blood was nowhere near as satisfying as human blood, but it was the only choice he had.

At least it was warm.

But it barely helped. If anything, it made the thirst greater. It was only his in-built sense of self-preservation that stopped him from running out of the building and into the sunlight, just to find food. He crawled along the walls, curling his body up tightly, struggling to ignore the pain building inside himself. His eyes darted around the building, vainly hoping to find something larger – a stray dog maybe.

"Hey you! This is my place, get out!"

Vin snapped his head around, searching for the source of the shout. On the other side of the building, wrapped in a blanket that was so covered in fleas and dirt that it must have masked the smell of him, was a young boy, no more than eighteen years old.

"I said, get out!" He walked directly towards Vin, with no fear or nervousness, just a determination to protect the small space he called home.

But Vin couldn't see that. The thirst was becoming too strong. Before he had a chance to think, he leapt, landing directly in front of the kid. For a split second, he hesitated, fighting uselessly against what he knew was about to happen. He had never killed someone so young before, so full of life and had always stuck to his own set of rules. But he was so hungry.

"What the….?" The kid backed away, quickly, his eyes widening in shock, but he didn't have a chance to finish his thought as Vin grabbed him tightly around the chest. One arm kept the boy immobile, arms pinned by his side, as the other reached up and pulled his hair, exposing the skin at his throat.

Before Vin was even aware of his own actions, he fed, draining the blood and the life from the innocent child.

*

Ezra had hoped that finding the professor would have been a simple matter of entering the college and asking. Instead, he had been provided with conflicting answers to his queries and was now, some three hours after he had begun the search, standing in the middle of a courtyard at a complete loss as to where to turn next.

A bell rang in the distance and he checked his watch. Thanks to a combination of his late night excursion to the bar and his proclivity for sleeping in late, he had wasted most of the day. The bell was clearly signifying the end of another study session somewhere and probably, for the students at least, the end of the scholarly day.

He could only hope that the professors were likely to stay around somewhat longer than the students would. The sun was already beginning to set, due to the shorter days during the winter months, and he knew that the moon would be high in the sky soon enough to cause him more misery. He estimated he had barely an hour left before the urges would become unbearable once more.

"Excuse me?" he reached out for a young man passing by. He had an arm full of books that he almost dropped in his haste to break away from Ezra's grip. "I'm looking for Professor Sanchez. I believe he teaches…"

"Mythology and Folklore," the man hastily concluded. "Over in B Block. Room 108." He pulled away and hurried as far from Ezra as he could.

That was something Ezra didn't ever think he would get used to, that even when he was like this, unshifted in his human form, there was something about him, an aura perhaps, that seemed to repel people. They would be unable to explain what it was, but they would be struck with an unbearable urge to be away from him. He had spent so much of his adult life learning how to make people trust him that he hated it almost as much as he despised the physical pain that the shifts caused. And it made it especially difficult to run any kind of con.

He headed towards the indicated building, hoping that this time, at least, he would not be chasing around on a fool's errand.

As he reached the indicted room, he saw a young girl standing outside. He stepped back, just out of her line of sight and watched as she carefully balanced a pile of books on her hip and knocked on the door.

"Professor Sanchez?" She called out. "It's Casey Wells. Are you there?"

There was no answer, but at least Ezra knew he had found the right place. As he carried on watching, she knocked again, but the books that she had carefully stacked were starting to wobble.

As the top book began its descent, she scrambled to catch it, inadvertently sending the rest flying towards the floor in accompaniment.

Before the books could hit the ground, Ezra dashed forwards, reaching for them and catching three out of the six books. Before the girl had a chance to react, he had gathered the rest and held them out to her, a flirtatious smile on his face. He wasn't interested in her, not in a romantic manner, but her obvious association with the Professor could be a useful tool.

"Oh, thanks," was all she managed as a blush rose on her face. "I'm such a klutz sometimes."

"Not at all," Ezra replied. "I'm pleased I was able to help a fellow mythology aficionado."

Her eyes widened. "You're into mythology? Most people round here think it's nothing more than childish storytelling."

"I have long had an interest in the more unusual tales of the Supernatural," he said. "And I've heard that Professor Sanchez is the person to be speaking to about things like that."

"Oh absolutely. He knows everything there is to know about vampires and werewolves and stuff like that. I'm hoping he'll take me on as a TA soon," she added, pride evident in her voice.

"You work with him a lot?"

"Not as much as I'd like to," she sighed. "But I've been helping him with some research." She indicated towards the books she had in her arms.

Ezra tilted his head to the side to read the titles. _The Werewolf Delusion. The Encyclopedia of Shapeshifting Beings. Witches, Werewolves and Fairies. _ All books that he had on his shelves at home. None of which gave him any more insight than he already possessed.

He was about to probe further when a familiar feeling came over him. A buzzing in his head, almost like an alarm and it was growing stronger every second.

He recognized it well enough – another werewolf was approaching. Ezra had probably encroached on another pack's territory and was about to be confronted. He had a decision to make, and quickly. He didn't want this young girl to get caught up in something that could turn messy.

"It has been a delight, Miss Wells, but I really must depart." He reached for her hand, careful not to topple the books that were perched back on her hip, and placed a small extravagant kiss on the back of it. He took a deep breath as he did, committing her scent to memory. She might come in handy again.

As she watched after him in surprise, he fled back along the corridor and out of the building.

He stood outside B Block, in a small, dingy area that appeared to be used as nothing but an open-plan trash area. He closed his eyes, focusing on the buzz that he had felt moments earlier. It was more intense, but he was sure that it was only a single werewolf, rather than an entire pack, but one that would be there soon.

Usually, he preferred to avoid confrontation and talk his way out of difficult situations, but the events of the last few hours – the encounters with Maude and the vampire – had left him fidgety. He was ready for a fight. A no-holds barred, teeth and claws fight.

He heard a growl coming towards him, and knew that it was time.

He released his will, feeling his body stretch and grow, bones moving around underneath the skin. He brought his hands up to his face and saw that they were no longer the smooth manicured hands that he took such care of, but were now covered in thick, dark hair, with nails that could rake through human skin like butter. They were now the claws of an animal.

His shoulders hunched and he felt his spine lengthen. In full werewolf mode, he was at least six inches taller than as a human, and he felt every one of those inches pull itself from his body. He breathed deeply, his lungs now larger than they had been, and his senses went wild as the creature came bounding around the corner, also shifted into a full werewolf.

The newcomer wasn't familiar to Ezra, but he recognized its scent enough to know that this wasn't one of Maude's. And if it wasn't one of the pack, it was the enemy. That was enough for him.

With a howl that was part warning, part cry of agony, he launched himself at the creature. The two of them ripped and tore at each other, knowing that only one would be able to survive the encounter. The other would be left for dead to be torn apart further by the remainder of his pack in an attempt to destroy the evidence.

*

Vin panicked. With the body held close, he ran at vampire speeds back to the bar, ignoring the sunlight that was burning his bare skin. He had waited as long as possible, until the sun wasn't quite as high as it had been, and his recent feeding had allowed him to withstand more pain than he would have been able to tolerate at any other time, but he would have taken twice as much pain without complaint.

He kicked at the door to the bar, hearing the wood splinter from the impact, and dashed in, regardless of whether anyone else was there.

Inez looked alert as he ran towards her, but continued to wipe clean the glass she held in her hand.

"Please." His voice came out as barely more than a whisper. "I didn't mean to."

She looked closer at what Vin was carrying and immediately turned towards Chris and Buck who were standing like twin sentries at either end of the bar. "Start up the incinerator. We've got some evidence that needs to be disposed of."

Vin shook his head. "He's not dead. Not completely."

"Oh shit," she said, looking around to see if anyone else was paying the vampire any attention. A couple of succubae had briefly glanced up at the noise, but the bar was largely empty. She ushered Vin towards her and held open a door that he hadn't noticed before.

"In here." She looked over at her two golems. "You two. Make sure no one bothers us."

The room was lighter and more colorful than the rest of the bar, with a cot bed in one corner and a two-seater sofa against one of the walls. There were paintings hung on the wall; images that Vin recognized as replicas of some of the most famous art works in the world. At least he assumed they were replicas. He was already starting to discover that Inez was a lot more than just a bartender.

"What the hell possessed you to do this?" she asked him, her voice calm but firm. "Are you insane? No, don't answer that."

Vin placed the boy on the bed, trying not to look at the bite marks on the bloodied throat. "I was so hungry," he said, tenderly pushing the boy's hair from his eyes. "I couldn't stop. And then when I saw him lying there, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just leave him."

He'd done the unthinkable. Opening up a vein in his own arm, he had fed the boy some of his own blood, watching as it dripped into his mouth, listening to the sounds as it began flowing through the unmoving body.

It was unforgivable, one of only two rules that all vampires lived by; do not kill another vampire without justification, and do not create one without the full support of your clan.

The punishment for either was the same. Death.

Inez was gathering weapons together - silver tipped wooden stakes, delicate looking silver daggers, crosses, anything to give them a chance if the kid went crazy on them. Newly created vampires often struggled with the transformation, behaving in a similar fashion to an injured wild animal, lashing out at anyone and anything that was within reach. This was one of the reasons that creating vampires alone was such a taboo - it usually required a dozen or so full vampires to prevent the child destroying themselves.

They had one vampire, two golems and a woman with a pointy wooden stick.

"How much did you give him?" she asked, wrapping a thick metal chain around the boy and the cot, attaching it to a previously unnoticed hook embedded in the floor.

"Enough," he replied, watching the boy's face, which was starting to twitch. "Too much."

"He's waking." She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt. "I need you out of here. And send the boys in."

"I want to stay."

She shook her head. "Out. If he sees you, he'll panic. We might be able to keep him calm if it's just us in here. Chris and Buck look human, you don't. Especially not so soon after feeding."

Vin stole one more look at the boy lying on the bed. "I'm sorry," he apologized, both to the boy and to Inez. "I wish…"

Inez patted him on the arm. "I know," she said, softly. "Now go pour yourself a drink and keep my customers from killing each other, while I try to do the same in here."

*

Vin tried to pretend he couldn't hear the screams and roars as the kid woke up in the back room of the bar. The bar was completely empty now, the two succubae being the last ones to leave, and he was at a loss for what to do with himself.

He considered getting a drink - he could smell where the blood was kept - but that would seem too much like a reward, when all he felt he deserved was punishment. In the space of five minutes he had ruined the poor kid's life, and condemned them both to death if the clans ever found out. He would have been better draining the kid and leaving him there to die.

He didn't even know the kid's name.

His anger started building up inside him, causing him to let out a cry that rivaled those coming from the other room. He spun around behind the bar, smashing bottles and glasses, screaming obscenities at the world. He felt the broken glass pierce his skin, tearing shreds out of it that, had he still been human, would have required several emergency stitches.

"Someone's having a bad day."

He had been so caught up in his own anger that he had missed the sound of the door opening, creaking on hinges that were damaged probably beyond repair, thanks to his over-zealous entrance. Standing in front of the bar, completely naked, was the werewolf.

He was covered in blood, not entirely his own, that much was obvious from the scent, but he had enough deep scratches that Vin knew some of it must be. It wasn't easy to injure a werewolf, not one as young and fit as this one was, and Vin suspected that whoever – or whatever – had done this was probably in a worse condition. Or was on its way here for revenge.

Vin's eyes narrowed and he barred his fangs. "Don't be bringin' your fights in here," he growled.

"I don't seem to recall you being the proprietor of this establishment," the werewolf replied. "Until I hear otherwise from Inez, I believe I am still welcome here."

The door to the back room swung open and Inez hollered through. "Stop being an ass, Vin, and pour Ezra a drink."

With a smile that could infuriate a saint, the still completely naked man sat down on one of the bar stools. "If you could possibly locate me some clothing, I would greatly prefer that to any refreshment."

"Check the chest behind the bar," Inez shouted. "You left some stuff here last time you..." Her sentence was cut off by a yowl of pain. "You god damned little shit. Sit down and shut up before I stake you myself."

She slammed the door, leaving Vin and Ezra alone once more.

"The clothing?"

Vin tore his eyes away from the closed door. "What? Oh right." He found the chest that Inez had referred to and pulled out a pair of black jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Without turning around, he tossed them over his shoulder to Ezra.

The sounds from the back room eased off, and he found himself wishing that his hearing wasn't so sensitive. Instead of the yelling, he could hear Inez's quiet whispers as she reassured the kid - a monster now, but still a child - that everything would be okay. He hated hearing that lie. Nothing would ever be okay for either of them again.

He turned away from the room and saw that Ezra was now dressed.

"I suppose you may be wondering as to the circumstances surrounding my unfortunate lack of attire," the werewolf said, reaching across the bar for a bottle of beer. It might be a bar catering to some of the most deadly creatures unknown to man, but there were a lot of them that enjoyed human drinks.

Vin shook his head. "If you mean, do I care why you're naked, then not 'specially. Figured you'd shifted or something." He held his hand out, palm upwards. "You going to pay for that beer?"

"And where exactly do you think I might have concealed cash?" Ezra asked, smiling widely enough that Vin could see the glint of a gold tooth. "But you are correct in your assumption. I did, in fact, shift rather unexpectedly. Just one more facet of this life of mine to abhor."

Vin only understood about half of Ezra's final statement, but the look on the werewolf's face was enough to make him understood. "You don't like bein' what you are?" he asked, before he had acknowledged the question in his mind. He recalled his initial feelings when he had discovered what he had become, back at the turn of the previous century, the horror of knowing what he would have to live with for the rest of his unnaturally long life. But he had long since accepted his fate, and was content with his lot in life.

"Happy being a wild animal with no more self-restraint than a child? No, bloodsucker, I'm not happy."

"Vin."

"Excuse me?"

"My name's Vin. Not bloodsucker."

Ezra nodded slightly, an apology. "Ezra," he replied.

"So I heard."

As another outburst of fighting began in the back room, Vin turned to listen, wishing to himself that vampires had the ability to see through walls. Or locked doors.

"Is our host in need of assistance?" Ezra asked. He took a deep breath, using his own sense of smell to gauge what was happening. He stared at the closed door, and then at Vin, a look of confusion spreading across his face.

"Another bloodsuc… vampire?" he said, correcting himself at the last minute. "There is something that seems familiar." His voice trailed off as the connection occurred to him.

Before he could comment further, the door opened and Inez stepped out.

"Nice to see you dressed, Ezra," she smiled. She had blood on her face and hands, but both Vin and Ezra could sense immediately that it wasn't from her. It belonged to the kid.

"I do so like to appear my best whenever I visit you," he replied.

"Looks like we both need to get cleaned up a bit," she said, taking in the streaks of dried blood on the usually immaculately clad man. "Want to use the bathroom?"

He smiled at her. "That would be most delightful." He stood up and reached out a hand to her. She allowed him to take it, but instead of planting a kiss on her hand like Vin expected, he sniffed deeply, taking in the scent of blood. "So young," he said, closing his eyes and licking at his lips.

Vin growled. "Don't even think about it." In a flash, he had placed himself between the werewolf and the door.

Ezra laughed softly to himself. "Nothing could be further from my mind," he lied. "I shall leave you now, at least for a short while."

He deliberately turned his back on Vin and walked towards the bathroom at the opposite end of the bar to the room where the young vampire was being kept.

Inez turned back to Vin. "I think he's ready to see you now. He's still chained – do _not_ let him out – but he's calm. He knows what has happened."

The words hit Vin, like a slap around the face. He shook his head and backed away, his eyes firmly trained on the backroom door.

"I can't."

Before she could comment, he had gone, leaving the badly damaged door to the bar barely holding on to its hinges.

*

Blissfully clean once more, Ezra ran his fingers through his damp hair and glanced in the mirror. _At least I'm still able to see my reflection_, he thought to himself. _It could have been worse._

Barefooted and wearing only the jeans that he had retrieved earlier, he returned to the bar to find Inez sitting at the bar. A half-empty bottle of tequila was in front of her and as he approached, she picked up her glass and swallowed a shot of the liquid.

"Can I presume that things didn't go exactly as anticipated?" he asked her.

She didn't ask how much Ezra knew, or what he had overheard – she had known him long enough to realize that there was little point in keeping things from him. "Truth be told," she admitted. "I had no idea what to expect. The kid was asking to see him. I just thought…"

"I understand. But I believe you are forgetting one vital piece of information."

Inez looked at him, waiting for the punch line.

"You have forgotten that we are no longer men who you can expect to act rationally in a situation as complex as this one. We are, both Vin and I, monsters. And as such, we continue to behave in ways which might seem unpredictable to someone as utterly human as yourself."

"When did you get to be so smart, Mister-I-Can't-Keep-My-Shirt-On?" she asked him with a smile. He was right, of course, as Ezra tended to be. But she had hoped that Vin may have reacted better.

Ezra touched two fingers to his forehead in a salute. "That would be telling, my dear. But now that my work is done here," he indicated to his clothes, "I shall be away. I still have the elusive Professor Sanchez to locate."

"Sanchez?" she asked. "Josiah Sanchez? Older guy, very clever, teaches at the college?"

Ezra nodded. "You know him?"

Inez shrugged. "Friend of a friend. From what I understand, he knows almost as much about you so-called creatures of the night as I do. Without having met any of you."

"That is what I have been led to believe. And it is the very reason I wish to meet him."

"You'll struggle to find him at the college today." At his confused expression, Inez laughed. "It's Saturday."

Ezra cursed. "Now I am aware of this man's existence, I find myself reluctant to wait until Monday to speak to him again."

"What is it that you are so eager to find out?"

Ezra debated for a moment whether or not to reveal his suspicions to Inez. She was a friend, at least he liked to consider her one, but would she understand?

Perhaps, he thought to himself, it might be time to begin trusting people.

"I have it on good authority," he started hesitantly, "that the good professor might be aware of something that could relieve me of my present malady."

Inez's eyes widened. "Change you back?" she said. "There are regulars to this place who would pay a great deal for something like that."

"I find myself unable to disagree with their intent."

She looked at him for a moment. "You hate what you are that much?" she asked. "Is there nothing good about it?"

"Other than your company, my dear, I have found no facet of this in any way pleasurable."

Silence filled the air, punctuated by occasional grunts and moans from the back room where the two golems were still watching over the newly born vampire.

"I might know someone who could help you track him down," Inez said finally. "A doctor who works at the hospital. If anyone knows Sanchez, it'll be him."

*

Vin ran, faster than a human could follow, through the darkened streets of the city. The faster he ran, the less he thought, so he pushed himself to whatever limits he could find.

His mind was a jumble, no matter how desperately he wished for it to clear, but one thought was at the forefront.

He had killed humans before and had regretted it, but he had never felt the overwhelming urge to destroy himself like he did this time. He couldn't understand what it was about the scruffy, filthy street urchin that was so important to him. Why did he do what he did - changing the child into a monster like him - when he had killed without remorse so often in the past?

He wished there were someone to talk to, but he couldn't risk it. He had done something unforgivable and to confess to the clans was as good as suicide. Inez might have been willing to listen, but he needed to be away from the bar. The sounds of the kid changing, understanding what he had become had been too much to cope with.

As he ran, the sky opened and rain thundered down around him, plastering his clothing to his body and his hair around his face. Still he ran, not knowing where he was running to or what he would do when he got there, running faster, until he was nothing more than a blur to any human he passed. His muscles began to burn, warning him to rest soon, but he wouldn't stop.

Thunderclouds filled the sky and lightning flashed across the blackness, creating shadows all around him. He watched as a fork of lightning pointed almost directly in front of him, as though leading the way to his destination. Without knowing why, he followed the route that the electricity offered, somehow feeling that he would soon be where he needed to be.

He turned a corner, into a road so badly vandalized that street lamps were smashed, blanketing it completely in the dark. The only light came from a small square building. Non-descript, it had just one word written on the outside.

Welcome.

Vin pushed open the heavy wooden door, the water pooling from his skin and clothes into a puddle on the floor. There appeared to be just a single room, warm and quiet with benches stacked around the walls, like unused seats in a school auditorium. He listened, but there were no sounds to be heard - no talking, no breathing, not even a heartbeat.

Appreciating the respite from the harsh rain, he walked over to one of the benches and sat down, just for a moment, and closed his eyes.

"Hello, son."

Vin looked up to see an elderly man standing in front of him, whose skin was weather-beaten and had the look of someone who had travelled the world, but whose eyes were shining brightly, excitement and joy visible to anyone who looked at him.

None of that bothered Vin as much as the fact that the man had managed to sneak up on him. He focused his gaze on the man and realized that the reason he hadn't heard the man approaching was because there was no heartbeat to hear or blood to smell.

"What are you?"

The man smiled and let out a chuckle. "I am who I am," he replied cryptically. "But the more important question here, I believe, is who are you?"

Torn between leaping to his feet and snapping the man's neck, and confessing the whole ugly truth, Vin wasn't sure what to respond.

The man, however, seemed to know the answer regardless. "Oh, a vampire." He said the word with no more expression than anything else he had said. "Is there a reason why you have willingly stepped into my church?"

Vin looked around with a start. A church? It couldn't be. Vampires were physically unable to enter a place of religion - any religion. The pain if they attempted it was debilitating.

"It's not what most people would normally call a church," the man said, seeing Vin's fear. "More of a spiritual home. We don't belong to any of the organized religions. We don't come under the same rules as a regular church."

"Is that why I am here?" Vin asked, before he had considered the words. The question made no sense, even to him.

The man didn't reply, but walked over to the nearest wall, where a framed picture was hung and looked up silently at the image. Vin rose to stand next to him, trying to see what was so important about the picture. It was just a blur of colors and shapes - some piece of modern art, Vin suspected. He preferred his paintings a little more classic in nature.

But the more Vin looked at the picture, the more it seemed to change. As he watched, the colors began to swirl around, blending into each other, forming new colors that he couldn't even name. The shapes, once clearly defined, now warped and pulsated, bouncing off each other like bubbles in the air.

He tried to look away, but the movement captured him completely, sucking him in until he could barely even recall wanting to look anywhere else. In that one moment, he felt completely at ease. Every care, every worry, washed away, leaving only a feeling of hope and peace.

"That is why you are here," the man said as the colors and shapes finally began to settle down. They rounded off, becoming seven circles, each a different color and size, but all overlapping at least one other. Where the two shapes merged, a brand new color evolved. "This is your destiny."

Vin didn't understand. How could moving shapes in a picture frame be his destiny? He wasn't even sure he believed that he had a destiny any more, not since he became a vampire.

The man chuckled. "Your change was just one step on the path that you must take. Every choice you have made has led here, and every choice you make in the future will lead you in a new direction. But your destiny is already prepared for you."

Vin stood still, watching the now static image. "What do I need to do?" he asked, another question asked that he didn't understand.

"Just one more thing," the man assured him. "And you will be firmly on the path you belong on."

"One thing?"

The man nodded. "There will be a request of you. Someone who needs assistance. You must offer whatever help you can."

Vin was afraid to ask what would happen if he didn't help when the time came, but as he watched the image on the wall, it started to move again, answering his question. The colors, which had been so harmonious were now clashing, fighting with each other, as the shapes spun away from each other. The circles, once perfectly rounded, were warping, becoming grotesque reflections of their former selves.

Vin understood that he had no choice. He tore his gaze away from the picture and turned to look at the man, but there was no one there. He was standing alone once more. And when he turned back to look at the picture, that too had disappeared.

He looked all around the building, expecting to find the man, but it was empty. Completely. Street lamps suddenly came on in the streets, light flooded in through the broken windows, and Vin could clearly see the dusty, trash-filled building he was now standing in.

It could only have been an hallucination, he told himself as he walked back out towards the door. An impossible figment of the imagination brought on by stress.

Repeating these words to himself, he opened the door, stepping out on the streets. As he paced his way down the darkened streets of the city once more, he had even started to believe the mantra.

*

The hospital was close to the college and the smell of the sick and dying flooded Ezra's senses as he drew closer. His only previous experience of hospitals was before his first shift and had revolved around losing people he cared about, so even without the new odors, his desire to leave was growing stronger by the moment.

The only thing that kept him walking down the darkened corridor, following the yellow line on the floor that directed him to the hematology lab, was the knowledge that with every step he took he was getting closer to finding a possible cure.

The doors to the lab were frosted glass and he could make out the figure of a man pacing up and down behind them. Gently, overly aware of the delicate nature of the glass door, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

"I'm looking for Doctor Nathan Jackson," he said to the man, who had stopped his pacing and was staring at him. "Inez sent me."

The worried expression on the doctor's face was swept away with those words, replaced by a smile that reached deep into his eyes. He walked towards Ezra, his hand held out in greeting.

As Ezra took the outstretched hand, shaking it firmly, he realized that his idea of a firm grip may be a little firmer than the doctor could withstand. Seeing the doctor's pained expression, Ezra released his hand and stepped back.

"Oh," said the doctor, rubbing his bruised hand. He looked at Ezra, his head tilted slightly. "Shapeshifter?" he guessed, his gaze running over Ezra's body as though sizing him up.

Ezra was confused. He hadn't expected this man to know what he was - even if he was only half correct - and certainly wouldn't expect anyone to act with such little shock.

"Almost," he corrected. "Werewolf."

The man nodded. "Doctor," he said with another one of his bright smiles. "Don't tell me Inez has run out of blood again."

"We've had rather a ... rush over the last 24 hours," Ezra explained, not knowing exactly how much this man knew about Inez and the bar. While he knew that a newborn vampire would need more blood than an older one, he doubted that it was something Dr. Jackson either already knew or had any need to know. There were some things that might be best kept quiet.

"Not a problem. I've got a dozen or so bags here that I've kept ready for her. She said she'd be sending someone to pick them up. I should have guessed it wouldn't have been one of the... you know," he mimed vampire fangs with his fingers. "A bit too much temptation, I guess."

Ezra couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. "You may be correct, my good doctor," he said. "And I will admit that I had an ulterior motive in offering to assist Inez."

Dr. Jackson was starting to gather up the bags of blood - some of each different type - and placed them in a cardboard box. "I'm sorry I don't have a cooler or something to pack them into," he apologized. "But Inez sent Buck last time and he got a little heavy handed with mine."

As if suddenly remembering his manners, the doctor stopped his packing. "How rude of me," he said. "Can I get you a drink or anything?" He waved his hands vaguely in the direction of the blood bags.

Ezra shook his head. "No thank you, Doctor..."

"Nathan, please."

"Nathan it is. And I am Ezra. As I was about to say, thank you for the offer, but I am more of a whiskey werewolf than a blood drinking one."

Nathan gave a small chuckle. "Now that is certainly something I could drink to." He walked over to the drawer of a desk by the wall and retrieved a small bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses, placed the glasses on the lab table and poured, handing one of the glasses to Ezra.

"I have to admit that it is not often that I find myself able to share a drink with one of Inez's friends," he said as he took a sip of the amber liquid. "Usually they either grunt at me or try to eat me."

Ezra had a feeling he was only partially joking, despite the smile forming on his lips.

"So you mentioned you had ulterior motives for wanting to visit me," Nathan asked. "I would like to hope that they didn't include the aforementioned eating of me."

"I fear you have found me out," Ezra replied, laughing and swallowing the whiskey in a single go.

"The truth is," he went on, carefully editing his version of the 'truth', "that I am trying to locate someone that Inez advices you may be friends with."

Nathan swallowed his whiskey and watched Ezra carefully. "And your interest in this person?" he asked, serious and forthright.

"Academic," Ezra replied. "Purely academic. Professor Josiah Sanchez has some information that I am keen to learn."

"I know him. But I won't help you if anything happens to him," Nathan promised. "I may not always get on very well with him, but I certainly won't allow you to kill him."

Ezra tried to look shocked. "I had never considered the idea," he lied. "I swear to you, on the life of my dear mother, that I will allow no harm to come to him."

Seemingly satisfied, Nathan reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He dialed a few numbers and waited for the other person to answer.

Ezra could only hear the one side of the conversation, but could guess what the intermediate parts were.

"Josiah, it's Nathan."

"Yes, I know it's late. But I have someone who wants to meet with you."

"You know that bar I told you about the other day? We'll meet you there. Half an hour."

"Yes, it's one of those people."

"And you too, 'Siah."

Nathan flipped the top of his phone down and slid it back into his pocket. "I'm guessing you caught that," he said, gathering up the bags of blood into a box.

Ezra nodded. "I can only thank you for your assistance."

Nathan shook his head. "There's something more you're not telling me," he said. "You creatures are all the same, all sneaky and dark."

"Sneaky and dark?" Ezra was amused by the definition. "I don't consider myself all that dark."

"Just pick up the box, will you," Nathan replied, fetching his keys to lock up the room. "We have somewhere else to be."

*

The first thing Vin noticed was that the door to the bar had already been fixed since he kicked it open earlier on. Either one of the golems was a dab hand at DIY or Inez had some pretty good connections - there weren't too many joiners that worked in the city at night.

There were more people in the bar now, but to Vin the smell of the newly turned vampire was stronger than anything else, and he wondered how no one else seemed to have noticed it already. A pair of vampires sat at a table, sipping from cocktail glasses filled with drink made from two types of blood and something else that he couldn't identify from the odor. A specter, fully formed, like a transparent human, floated past him, nodding politely as he did. Other creatures, some Vin recognized, others that he didn't, sat around drinking, conversations hushed for the most part for privacy purposes.

He saw Ezra sitting at one of the tables with a man he didn't recognize, human by the scent of him. They were hunched over the table, so deep in conversation that they weren't aware of his presence.

He walked over to the bar where Chris was wiping down the counter top. "How is he?" he asked the golem.

Chris didn't reply, simply nodding his head towards the back room. There was something in his look that told Vin it was safe for him to go in.

The room was dark, lights switched off, but that didn't bother him, his eyes adjusted almost instantly and it was as clear as daylight. The cot bed in the corner was empty and he looked around for the kid.

"Stop thinking of me as the Kid." Stepping out from behind a wardrobe, the young man stared at Vin. "My name's JD."

Vin hadn't seen his own sire in so long that he had almost forgotten about the psychic link between a vampire and his offspring. It wasn't as strong as a telepathic link, but one that meant certain thoughts and emotions could be heard by a 'relative'.

The idea that another person could know what he was thinking both scared and thrilled him at the same time. He wanted to say a million things; apologizing for what he had done, asking for forgiveness, telling him about the strange meeting in the church-that-wasn't-a-church. But as all of those flooded through his mind, there were only two words that he actually spoke out loud.

"I'm sorry."

The kid, JD, looked at him for a moment, his head tilted slightly to one side as he contemplated both the words and feelings coming from Vin. Eventually, his face lit up in a smile, an honest and genuine one, and he stepped closer.

"That's okay," he said, bouncing from one foot to the other like an excited puppy. "It's pretty weird, what's happened, but there's lots of neat stuff that I can do now that I couldn't do before. Inez was telling me about how my hearing would get really, really good, and how I'm gonna be able to to run, like, super fast. And how…."

"Woah!" Vin held his hands out in front of him. "No need to breathe, I know that, but calm down."

JD hung his head and looked ashamed. "Sorry," he apologized. "I just have so many questions and stuff. Inez told me to wait until you came back."

So Inez had known he'd be back. Yet again, someone proved that they knew him better than he knew himself. A few hours ago he honestly hadn't believed that he could ever step foot inside this bar again, let alone speak to the young man whose life he had ruined so badly.

"Stop feeling all sorry for yourself," JD admonished. "It's not so bad. It's not like my life was all that great before this happened."

Vin wanted to ask him how he had ended up on the streets, why he'd been alone, but the way he had spoken clearly indicated that this was not the time to have that conversation. They were both vampires, Vin realized, they'd have plenty of time to get to know one another.

He allowed himself to smile. "Are you, you know, hungry?" he asked tentatively. He knew that Inez had been providing blood for JD to drink to help with his initial feeding frenzy, but he also knew that drinking artificially warmed blood from a glass wasn't quite the same as feeding from a living, breathing human.

JD's face lit up, his eyes bright and wide. "God yes," he said, nodding frantically. "I thought you'd never ask."

*

Josiah stepped cautiously into the bar. Nathan had explained earlier to Ezra that while Josiah had spent the majority of his adult life studying supernatural creatures, he had never knowingly come face to face with any of them.

He hovered in the doorway, wide eyes searching for a familiar face. He was older than Ezra had expected, graying hair pulled back in a ponytail, but he had a wide-eyed look of excitement in his eyes.

As he stood there, soaking up the sights that surrounded him, a wraith, barely visible in the dull light, approached. With its ghostly fingers, it reached out towards him, causing the professor to back away. Nathan stood up to rush to the professor's rescue, but Ezra was faster.

"Leave him alone," Ezra growled at the creature. "He's here with me." The implied threat was enough to send the wraith floating away.

Ezra held out his hand. "Professor Sanchez, I presume."

"Josiah, please." He looked Ezra up and down. "Are you…?"

"Human?" Ezra anticipated the question. He smiled and allowed himself a small shift – just his face – and watched the expression on Josiah's face. "Not entirely," he replied, his voice thicker and deeper than before.

Josiah swallowed loudly as Ezra forced back the shift, reverting to his preferred visage.

"I take it my affliction won't cause you any problems?" Ezra asked, studying the man's face. He was intrigued by the stories he had heard about Sanchez and was starting to allow himself the merest hope that he would be able to help find a cure.

Hesitating for a moment, he reached out his own hand to Ezra. "I don't think so," he replied as Ezra shook his hand. "I think this could be rather interesting."

A few moments later, seated around the small table and reassured by the presence of both his friend Nathan and a bottle of ice-cold beer, Josiah began to tell his story.

"Legend tells of an amulet owned by Osiris, Pharaoh of Ancient Egypt. Osiris was known as the God of the Dead and was often depicted as having the head of a jackal. The research I've been doing leads me to believe that may have been evidence of him being a werewolf, possibly even the first werewolf."

Nathan spoke up, confused. "A werewolf? In ancient Egypt? Wouldn't stories of that be as well known as those that we learn about in school?"

Ezra replied before Josiah had a chance to. "How much are werewolves discussed in schools today? And I think we can both confirm that they're more than just stories now."

Nathan shrugged and conceded the point, indicating for Josiah to continue.

"Osiris was said to have worn this amulet only when the moon was high in the sky. The amulet appears in a few stories, each time connected with tales of either the moon or blood." He lapsed into silence for a few moments, allowing the details to cement themselves firmly in Ezra's mind. "I'd say it was fairly likely, don't you think?"

Ezra was still skeptical. "So what happened to the amulet after his death?"

"It was buried in his tomb with him and discovered around 35 years ago during an excavation by a team of British archaeologists. One of the women on the team contacted me about it, realizing the potential connections and how they might fit into my research. Although it has remained at the British Museum in London since then, it has recently become part of a select group of items that is travelling around the world as a mobile exhibition on Ancient Egyptian jewelry. Its current place of residence is the Museum of Antiquities, here in town."

"It's here?" Ezra was more cynical than surprised. The idea that the one item in the entire world that he desired more than anything would be virtually in his backyard seemed a little farfetched – even in a world where vampires and werewolves roamed the streets.

Josiah nodded, his eyes darting around the bar. Despite becoming somewhat more comfortable around this particular werewolf, he was clearly still nervous of the other occupants.

As soon as Josiah had begun to tell the legend of the amulet, Ezra had felt his pulse race. He had searched for years since his change to find something that could reverse what had been done to him, but had come up against dead end after dead end. Finally, here, in his own city, he had discovered the one man who could lead him to the solution. It seemed too good to be true.

"But it's only here for another two days," the professor added. "I might be able to arrange a private viewing, but there's no way we could get it off the premises."

"Not good enough," Ezra said decisively. "If what you're saying is true, I could shift as soon as I touch it. If that happens in the middle of a museum full of people…." He let the sentence trail off.

Josiah's face paled.

"I need to get it out of the museum." Ezra's keen senses caught a glimpse of someone moving about in the shadows behind the bar. He focused his eyes and saw the almost imperceptible outline of two vampires – Vin and the newly changed kid – lurking there, having managed to enter the bar and walk straight past them without him having noticed.

"Vampires seem to have several useful traits," he muttered to himself, referring to their ability to blend into the darkened surroundings. "If I need to break into the museum and steal a priceless artifact, I could do with a few vampire abilities myself."

*

Despite his attempt to keep up with JD in conversation, Vin quickly learned that it may be easier to let the kid get all of his talking out of the way in one go. He seemed to possess an unstoppable sense of enthusiasm about everything that he opted to express verbally.

"I thought it was going to be harder to bite through the skin, but it was pretty easy. When I started, it felt kinda strange, almost like part of me didn't want to drink the blood, but then a different part of me really wanted to. And then the blood kept pumping real fast and it was like I could hardly drink it quick enough, but I got used to it and it tasted different to the stuff that Inez gave me. Not that what she gave me wasn't good, but it…."

Vin tuned out the words, occasionally offering a nod or an "uh-huh" as seemed appropriate, instead listening to the conversations that continued in the rest of the bar. It never hurt to keep abreast of what was happening around him.

He picked up snatches of conversations about food, sex and everything in between, none of which interested him too much, but his attention became piqued when he heard the word "vampire". It wasn't so much the word itself, but the familiar southern drawl that accompanied it. Werewolves didn't often talk about vampires, especially not in a somewhat wistful tone of voice. And there was only one person in the bar with that particular accent.

"…could do with a few vampire abilities myself."

Everything else faded out of the bar, and Vin's attention focused completely on Ezra's words. It couldn't be, could it? It almost sounded like the werewolf was asking for his help. He thought back to the words that the strange man in the church had said about being willing to help someone who needed his assistance.

"Hell no." He muttered the words quietly to himself, but JD heard him nonetheless and stopped speaking, miracle of miracles, looking at Vin with confusion etched on his face, concerned that he had said something wrong.

"Sorry kid. It's not you," Vin assured him, shaking his head, silently cursing the universe that had led him here. This was his destiny? To help a werewolf break into a damn museum?

He hoped that someone out there was having a good old laugh at his expense, because he sure as hell wasn't. He took a deep breath and walked over to the table where the two humans sat with the werewolf.

"Did I hear you say you needed some help?"

*

Vin and Ezra waited outside the Museum of Antiquities, watching, listening for anything that might cause a hindrance to their plan. JD had begged to come along and help, but Vin insisted that he needed more time to learn his strengths and weaknesses. They couldn't risk him losing control in the middle of the break in; they had enough to worry about without that added risk.

"Remind me again why I offered to help you?" Vin muttered quietly. They were both crouched in a dark alley opposite the museum, their clothes as black as the cloud covered sky above them.

"I believe you said something about fate, destiny and a crazy old man in a church," Ezra replied. "I must admit it didn't make too much sense to me, but you seemed fairly insistent on aiding me."

Despite his sarcasm, he was quietly relieved that the vampire had offered to help. Whatever his reasons, his abilities would be extremely useful. "Would you like to go over the plan once more?" he asked, aware that his reluctant companion appeared to getting nervous.

Vin shook his head. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Of course." Even in the darkness, the glint of gold from Ezra's tooth was visible when he smiled. He held out a hand in front of him. "After you."

Although there was no obvious sign of movement from inside the museum, neither of them were under any false impressions. There would be at least two security guards patrolling, as well as a number of electronic security devices to get past before they were within reach of the amulet.

When Vin had first suggested that he be the one to retrieve the amulet, Ezra had balked at the idea. He didn't trust anyone, let alone a vampire who may or may not be crazy, but Vin's arguments had won out. The security system, they had discovered from the professor, had two flaws that Vin could bypass with ease. The first was that it worked primarily on body temperatures which meant it was unlikely to be able to identify Vin's presence at all. The second was that it wouldn't be able to monitor anything moving as fast as a vampire could. Those two factors meant that Vin was the ideal candidate to get to the amulet.

Which left Ezra to monitor the guards.

"No killing," Vin had told Ezra during the planning stage. "We're not that kind of monster."

Ezra had agreed, at least out loud. In his mind, he knew that he would do whatever it took to get hold of that amulet. If the vampire wanted to believe in the inherent goodness of all creatures, he was perfectly entitled to. But Ezra wasn't doing this for some altruistic purpose. He was doing it to get what he wanted. And he always got what he wanted.

They had identified the most viable entry point as being on the roof. There was no way for a human to access the roof without a helicopter, so it was less secure than the other entrances and neither a vampire or a werewolf needed a helicopter to get up the side of a building.

Vin easily made it to the roof, casually leaping from foothold to foothold, and waited at the top.

Ezra's own dexterity allowed him to reach the roof faster than Vin had made it, and in less jumps, but his lack of experience meant that he landed each time with a little less confidence than the vampire had done. As he made his final jump, the moon forced its way through the thick clouds, shining high in the sky for a single moment before being smothered once more. It wasn't enough to cause him to shift, but it was enough to throw off his jump. He clutched for a handhold to pull himself up, his fingers extending into thick claws, piercing the concrete in desperation.

A hand reached over the edge, gripping his wrist as Vin pulled him up to the roof, his grasp still firm, allowing Ezra to catch his breath. After a moment in silence, both men seemed to realize that they were still gripping each other tightly, and their hands dropped away from each other.

As expected, the emergency access door on the roof was locked up tight, with a padlocked chain around the handle as well as the standard locking mechanism. Vin had suggested the idea of picking the lock, but Ezra had a much quicker and simpler plan. He gripped the handle tightly and with a flick of his wrist, he heard the lock snap. He pulled, barely a tug for a werewolf, but enough to shatter the chain, and the door opened. Stepping back, he gestured for Vin to go first.

Vin made his way down the dark stairs, the lack of ambient light causing him no more hesitation than the door had caused Ezra. He had the layout of the building memorized, and quickly led them into the main exhibition hall. Ezra winced as the high pitched buzz of the security system pained his overly sensitive ears, but Vin didn't notice. He had his gaze firmly fixed on the target - a small glass cabinet on the far side of the room.

There was no way Ezra would make it across the room without triggering the heat and motion detectors.

He started to whisper as much to Ezra, but realized that the werewolf wasn't able to hear him over the constant buzzing which was, to human or vampire ears, inaudible. He indicated for Ezra to follow him, and led them back along the corridor the way they had come, watching his face until it became clear that the he was no longer suffering.

"I'll have to go in alone," he explained, anticipating any number of arguments that he would have to contend with.

Instead, Ezra nodded. "I am afraid I cannot even get close to that room, let alone approach the prize. I shall make myself useful though."

With that, he smiled, his teeth longer and sharper than in human form. Despite not actively shifting, his features altered enough that Vin could identify a distinct wolfishness about him. "Consider me your backup," he said, his voice a low growl.

Vin nodded. "I'll meet you on the roof in 10 minutes," he said. "And remember, no killing."

Ezra responded with another growl and ran off, his strong arms pumping at his side as he sped out of sight down the corridor.

Vin turned his attention back to the amulet. Walking back to the exhibition room, he took a few moments to commit the image of the room to his mind. He identified the location of four cameras in the room and was confident that he hadn't missed any. He was sure that his body temperature, or lack of one, wouldn't reveal him to the heat sensors in the room, so the cameras, and the vibration monitor around the cabinet were his only opponents.

The ten minutes he had given Ezra were overly cautious. He had only one way of doing this that would offer them the chance to escape.

Fast.

He took a deep breath and ran. Even as a human he had been fast on his feet, but until he had been turned, he hadn't truly understood the concept of speed. When he ran now, it was as though the whole world slowed down around him. He was able to see things as clearly, if not more so, than when he moved slower, and was offered an entire new interpretation of his surroundings.

He ran in a direct line towards the cabinet, knowing that as long as he kept moving at his top speeds, the cameras would be lucky to see him at all. Even if they managed by some random quirk of fate to catch him, he would be moving so fast that nothing more than a blur would be seen. As he ran, he brought his hands up in front of him, ready to pick up the glass cabinet - and its contents - as he reached it.

As he moved to swipe the cabinet from its pedestal, he crouched slightly so that he could lift it with the minimum of vibration. He knew that as long as the monitor was calibrated to the levels he expected, he should be able to create less vibration than that of a single fly landing on top of the glass.

He felt the weight of the cabinet in his arms, and spun around towards the door of the exhibition room, his prize held tightly against him, dreading the sound of the alarms. But he made it back to the door without triggering any of the sensors.

Placing the glass cabinet carefully on the floor, he slid the lid off, reached in and grasped the amulet tightly in his hand. It didn't look like anything special, just a metal disc, rusted and battered, on a leather cord so badly frayed that it looked ready to snap any moment. There was some kind of inscription on one side of the disc, in something that could have been Egyptian, but it wasn't something that Vin could read. He knew a lot of languages, having had plenty of time to learn them, but these weren't any form of hieroglyphs that he recognized. He just hoped that this was what Ezra expected.

He slipped the amulet into a pocket on the inside of his jacket and was about to start back towards the roof, when he heard a noise along the corridor. His relief at having retrieved the amulet successfully was suddenly muted at the realization that he may be about to get caught. There was no way he could get past a guard without being seen - fooling a $200 black and white cctv camera was one thing, but it was a lot harder to run past a living being. He glanced around and identified the best place to hide, a small alcove off to one side. It wasn't particularly deep, but he could probably hide in the shadows well enough. He had long learnt that it was sometimes easier to hide than to fight.

He pushed himself as tightly into the alcove as he could, grateful that the lights in the corridor were dimmed while the museum was closed. His back was pressed firmly against the wall and he pulled his jacket up high enough to cover the pale skin of his face.

A security guard shuffled past, torch lighting the way in front of him. Luckily for Vin, the tight beam was directed towards the centre of the corridor, allowing him to remain concealed. The man was old, not by Vin's standards, of course, but surely nearing retirement, his shoulders were hunched over and he occasionally scratched at his balding head as he passed the alcove.

Suddenly, without warning, the guard turned his torch directly towards Vin.

"Oi!" he shouted, reaching blindly at his side for the gun he was carrying. It wouldn't have done any damage to Vin, but a bullet would sure as hell still hurt when it pierced the skin.

Vin hissed, ready to bolt, when he heard a familiar sound barreling towards them. Ezra, fully shifted, howled at the guard, leaping the final few meters. Before the man could scream, Ezra had his claws buried deeply in the man's chest, ripping him apart like a child's toy.

"STOP!" Vin yelled, his voice loud enough to shatter the glass cabinet that still sat on the ground. But Ezra, lost completely to the animalistic side that consumed him, continued to maul the now-dead security guard. Blood sprayed everywhere, the usually addictive scent repelling Vin. "EZRA! STOP!"

The wolf looked up at Vin, eyes red and wide, blood smothered around his muzzle. He growled, baring his teeth, but Vin wasn't cowed. If it came down to it, he could probably snap the creature's neck.

He stared directly into the wolf's eyes, refusing to break the contact. Eventually, something changed and Vin watched as human features began to show through. But Ezra stayed where he was, crouched on the floor, covered in the dead man's blood, unable to explain what had happened.

In a flash of lightning-fast movement, Vin had Ezra pinned against the wall, one arm pressed across the Ezra's chest. Vin felt deep heaving of the other man's lungs, struggling to regain composure after the shift.

"No killing, we said," Vin hissed, refusing to look into the now-green eyes that were locked onto his, questioning, confused. "You agreed. I trusted you and you lied."

Ezra shook his head. He was still too wound up to speak, but he tried, forcing out the words. "It's who I am," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "No choice."

"Fuck that!" Vin shouted. He removed his arm from across Ezra's chest and slammed both hands onto the wall, either side of Ezra's head. The force of the impact shuddered through both men's bodies, and caused flakes of plaster to flutter to the floor. "You had a choice. You just took the easy way out."

Vin listened to the sound of Ezra's heart rate increasing, beating so hard that it threatened to break out of the walls of his chest. The werewolf was lying to him about something. And he needed to know what.

"Tell me the truth," Vin demanded, his face mere inches away from Ezra. The two men were close enough in height that when they stood face-to-face like this, they were evenly matched. "Just this once. No lies."

Ezra half-nodded, tipping his head forward enough that their foreheads rested against each other. The heat felt good against Vin's cold vampire-skin and he found himself content simply to stand like that for a few moments.

"I was scared." Ezra spoke in a whisper, his voice flooding Vin's ear. "He saw you and I thought he was going to shoot you."

Vin listened to Ezra's heart rate and knew that he was telling the truth. "Shit, Ezra," he said simply, confused by the revelation.

Before Ezra could respond, before he could even think enough to come up with a response, Vin dropped the amulet at his feet. He looked down to see it clatter on the floor and felt the air move around him. When he looked back up, Vin had gone.

*

The drive back to the bar was agonizing. Ezra kept looking over at the seat next to him, expecting Vin to be there. Instead, the amulet lay there, the dark copper color of the disc contrasting against the light material of the seat. It seemed to taunt him with every kilometer, reminding him that he had screwed up again. Reminding him that he was a monster.

He couldn't understand how the vampire had gotten so deeply under his skin in the few days since they met, how he had gone from being the enemy to whatever he was now. A friend? A colleague? He wasn't sure, but he hated the feeling of reliance.

Eventually, he pulled up at the bar. The sun had already risen, shining high and bright in the sky, and from the heat already streaming through the windows of the car, the day was destined to be a scorcher. The car park outside the bar was empty, which was as much as Ezra had expected - he wasn't even sure why he had decided to come here, but had driven automatically. It was as good as anywhere else, he supposed.

The inside of the bar was as deserted as the car park had been, but the two golems stood quietly in opposite corners, as though standing guard. "Is Inez here?" he asked Chris, who stood closest to him.

The blond Golem didn't speak, but nodded towards the small back room. Ezra took that as an invitation to walk in, although he remembered his manners in time and knocked sharply before opening the door.

"What's wrong?" Inez had probably been asleep, but she jumped up as soon as she saw Ezra. He was unsure what she meant, until she reached a hand out and touched his cheek, and he realized that it was probably still covered in blood.

He had a million things he wanted to tell her, unburden himself with, but had no idea where to start and what to actually say. Instead he forced a smile. "I'm fine," he lied. "I could just use somewhere to be by myself for a while."

It wasn't the first time Inez had given up her room for one of her regulars, and it probably wouldn't be the last. She patted him gently on the shoulder, careful to avoid the long gash that had bled through his white shirt. "Try not to get blood on my things," she said as she showed him into the room, closing the door behind her as she left.

Ezra walked over to the mirror that stood in the corner of the room, and reached into his pocket for the amulet. He took a deep breath before slipping the leather cord around his neck, letting the heavy metal disc slide down the open neck of his shirt until it was laying icy against his chest.

He waited, wondering if he would feel something when it happened; he stood, motionless in front of the mirror, waiting for a sign that it was working. Anything. A flash of mystical blue lightning. A spiral of soft grey smoke. Anything.

But nothing happened. He wondered if maybe it had worked without an obvious sign and clenched his fists, trying to force a change, at least in part. Perhaps if he couldn't make it happen then it had been successful.

Everything Ezra had felt while they were at the museum, every shred of anger and fear suddenly flowed back through him, filling him with the emotions that he had tried so hard to block for the past hour and he felt his fingers, still clenched tightly into fists, sharpen and he realized that it hadn't worked. The pain, so recently remembered from his last unintentional shift, came back to him, starting with a pounding in his head. He felt a growl work its way up from his chest, and knew that it had all been a lie.

The amulet was nothing more than a piece of cheap jewelry. There was nothing magical about it. He was still the monster he always had been.

He reached up and grabbed it from around his neck, snapping the leather cord without a thought. Turning, he flung it into the small fireplace, watching as the leather burned and shriveled. He took a step closer, watching it, waiting for it to melt and be no more.

Suddenly the door opened behind him. He spun around and saw Vin standing there, silently questioning him.

"It didn't work," Ezra answered. "It was just another ruse that Maude made up."

Vin stepped closer to him, wary enough to stay just out of arms reach, but confident enough that he closed the door behind him.

"Are you ready to accept who you are now?"

Ezra shook his head defiantly. "Never."


End file.
